No Escape
by alex0000
Summary: What happens when even apparition won't let you run away? Oneshot of what happens when an ftm trans student reaches the time to begin apparition lessons. Touches on trans issues, unsupportive parents with a very, very fleeting mention of suicide and substance abuse.


**_A/N: _**I don't own any of this, except for knowing dysphoria only too well and my character, particularly the beginning quote from HBP. It's all J.K. Rowlings.

**-o0o-**

_"If y__ou are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st of August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor._

_Please sign below if you would like to participate. Lessons begin next Monday at 7pm._

_Cost 1__2 Galleons._

_Prof. McGonagall" _

**-o0o-**

The time had come, we were finally being allowed to begin apparition lessons. It was 12 Galleons, but it would be worth it. The freedom to go anywhere, at any time, would be brilliant. I had always wanted to apparate from the moment I knew it existed, but it was only now that I was finally old enough to be able to sign up for the classes. I'd been looking around for the notice for weeks now, knowing that it usually went up around this time of the year, whilst there was a lull in the Quidditch training, but it was only today that it had gone up.

It didn't take me a moment to dig a quill out of my bag and join the throng of my classmates in crowding around the poster, all as eager as the next to sign up. I pushed through to the front and quickly scrawled my name on the parchment pinned to the notice board, already wishing that next Monday would come around sooner. It was only five days but it felt like months away.

The question which seemed to be on everyone's lips was, "Have you signed up for Apparition yet?" and almost everyone responded in the affirmative. Even those whom 12 Galleons would be a big stretch had signed up for it, it was just as much a wizard's coming of age ritual as receiving your pocket-watch on your seventeenth, and no one would dream of missing out, let alone me.

That weekend I'd even braved the library to get out a book which vaguely touched upon apparition, determined to do well in it, and maybe, just maybe, pass with distinction. Although really, I didn't care as long as I got my license, that was the part which really mattered. It would have been weird to be studying that hard for anything else, but almost the entire year was doing it, no one wanted to make a fool of themselves. It was like Quidditch lessons in the first year, only we were a million times more self-conscious now. Especially me.

Just when I thought I knew everything that there was to know about apparition, Professor McGonagall had to come along and wipe it all away in a tsunami of dysphoria.

"Simmons, I would like a word." Professor McGonagall's Scottish lilt summoned me from the other side of the corridor.

I groaned, mentally running through a list of everything I might have done wrong in recent days. The last thing which had happened had been weeks ago, and was over and dealt with now, by no-one less than Dumbledore himself, so as far as I was concerned it was done and dusted now. I hadn't even _seen _anything happen for weeks, everyone was so focussed on the upcoming apparition lessons, and hadn't wanted to do anything to jeopardise being able to learn. I excused myself from my friends, waving them on ahead to supper, I'd find them later.

"Professor."

She led me into her classroom and shut the door with a wave of her wand. "I see that you've signed up for apparition lessons."

"Is there a problem? I paid in full the day after the notice went up..." My mind raced, trying to think of something which might be related to the apparition, I couldn't imagine that this talk was going to be wishing me well in them.

There was a hint of sorrow as she looked down at her now clasped fingers and pursed her lips. "I'm afraid we've been advised that it would be highly dangerous for you to take part."

The blood drained out of my face. They couldn't stop me, it was dangerous for everyone, but that's what the lessons were for, to teach you how not to get splinched and injured. Why would it be any more dangerous for me? "I don't understand Professor, no one else has been prevented from learning to apparate."

"With your... level of disconnect with your body the chances of getting splinched are greatly increased. I'm sorry Mr Simmon's, it would be irresponsible on our part to allow you to endanger yourself this way." McGonagall's grey eyes met mine, and I could tell she really regretted having to give me the news, but it didn't make it any better for me.

I nodded stiffly and began to turn away. "I understand." My voice came out thick and choked, and I hated it more than usual. Darned oestrogen, always bringing up the emotions and tears.

With the classroom left far behind me, I fought against the population of the school following their stomachs to the Great Hall, that bloody voice in my head pointing out that if I could apparate I wouldn't have to be facing anyone right now, and they wouldn't see that I had tears in my eyes. Of course, that was rationally countered by the rest of my brain reminding me that you can't apparate within Hogwarts grounds anyway. My head was too busy, too crowded, and all I felt was frustration and self-loathing.

I had made a pact to myself so long ago that I can't remember when I did it, that I would never let this rule my life. It was part of me, but it wasn't everything. I was still me and I was still a normal person as far as I was concerned, but now it was stopping me. It was throwing a hinkypunk in the works that I couldn't shift, no matter how much I tried. There was no getting around it. Would I really splinch myself if I tried to apparate, or was it just a tactic from the purebloods up at the ministry to try and control people like me? If that was all it was then I could learn to apparate in secret, no one would have to know... but if there really was some truth in what McGonagall had said then I would end up bleeding to death.

The only thing for it was to go back to my dorm room and try to escape from myself in anyway that I knew how. Maybe I would be able to get hold of some firewhiskey from somewhere, but it was unlikely. Without it all there was for it was to sit and wait until the dysphoria passed, try and do something, anything to keep my mind off the subject of my own body. There was nothing worse than hating yourself, there was no way to escape it, no way to run away from it. Your body is with you everywhere, and the only escape is death, but that's giving in. And breaking pact number two, never being buried as someone other than myself.

A thought hit me suddenly, and I veered from my course, now heading for Dumbledore's office, knowing that he would know and wouldn't judge. Dumbledore had been understanding since the moment I let slip how I felt about myself, even hinting to me enough to be ninety-eight percent sure that he was gay himself. It wasn't a fact I shared with anyone, but it meant a lot to me, knowing that he trusted me with his own secrets, and that I wasn't the only one who didn't fit the heteronormative cisgender pureblood crap that certain people liked to preach. It always helped that he had arranged for everyone to know me by my chosen name as well, just because my parents wouldn't support me didn't mean that within the castle walls I could be known by my real name.

"Jelly Tots." I announced to the golden phoenix that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's study, thankful for being taken to see him the week before and finding out the password. It wouldn't have been difficult to find out anyway, his fascination for Muggle confectionery was borderline insane, like most of the things he did really.

Before I'd even knocked on his door, he was calling me in, by name.

He was sitting behind his desk, stroking Fawkes lovingly with one of his long fingers, half-moon glasses pushed down on his nose. His bright blue eyes shone above them. There was always something so serene about the headmaster, so calming. I couldn't hold onto the anger I'd harboured on my way here.

"Ah Perry, I thought I'd be seeing you. I presume you've come to discuss apparition?"

"Professor McGonagall spoke to me about it. Apparently I'm not allowed to take part in the lessons."

"I'm afraid, my dear boy, that there is nothing which can be done. It's simply too much of a risk for us to take." He smiled sympathetically. I opened my mouth to counter but he raised his hand and I remained silent. "I know what you're thinking, but unfortunately it was me who brought it to the Minstry's attention, and they agree."

My eyes narrowed and the anger was back. I couldn't believe Dumbledore of all people stopping me from apparating, he had always been on my side! He'd done all he could for me, he'd tried to convince my parent's for Merlin's sake! "But sir, you know how important this is! Everyone can apparate!"

"In time, perhaps you can learn to apparate, but until you're of age, or your parents permit you gaining your own body, it would be too dangerous to try. With your mind having the body map of a male I fear you would leave some of the more... female... characteristics behind." He spoke softly, but I knew it was final word on the subject, and it made sense. Damn that man for always being right.

My horribly sarcastic brain piped up again, with a "would that really be so bad?", causing my head to jerk, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head. It was an idea that was all too welcome, leaving certain parts of my body behind. I forced myself to cling onto the one part of the conversation which gave me hope, when I was of age, as soon as I was seventeen, I would be free to seek out the help of St Mungo's, and then perhaps I would be able to learn to apparate.

Until then, this would be allowed to rule my life. But only for another four months. Four months and all this could be put behind me.

Now to explain to my friends that I wouldn't be joining them in the Great Hall on Monday.

**-****seventeenth birthday****-**

Nervously, I looked down towards my chest, my hands awkwardly smoothing my robes down, then tugging at my shirt, before going back to smoothing it down again. I'd never been so agitated about my appearance before, I dressed this way everyday. Anyway, they'd all told me that it didn't matter how I dressed when I went to see the Healers, but to me it did matter. I'd had nightmares where they'd told me that they wouldn't help me, and I wasn't going to do anything to risk that happening now. It was a stupid fear anyway, I'd spent years as Perry, it would be ridiculous for them to tell me it was all a lie now.

"Doreen Simmons?" The healer called from the office in front of me. I cringed at the name, and glanced over to the only other in the waiting room, thankful that it was a late appointment and there was no one else around.

I entered the office, wiping my hands on the side of my robes, hoping he wouldn't notice how sweaty they were as he offered his hand to me for me to shake. I gripped his strongly, hoping to give a good first impression. He motioned for me to take a seat and I did, looking around the office, thankful that he was a reasonably young for a Healer, but not so young that he wouldn't be clueless. Just the sort of person I'd wanted, but didn't know how to ask for. Luck was on my side.

"How can I help you?"

"I'm transgender, and I was wondering how you could help me."

I walked out of the office clutching the roll of parchment in my hand like my life depended on it. As a matter of fact it did. This parchment contained the rest of my life, this parchment would make the outside match the inside, this parchment was my escape. I ran my destinations for the rest of the day through my head, first stop: the apothecary, second stop: the name change registry, third stop: Archibald's Apparition School.

**-o0o-**

**A/N: **_The idea for this had been floating around in my head for quite a while, but a few days it became more personal to me and I thought I'd better write it up. Sorry if any of it is a little jumbled, I wrote this quickly, it just sort of flowed out. It seemed to me like a logical thing which would have had an impact on a trans person in the wizarding world, I couldn't imagine being able to apparate without being splinched. __Originally it didn't have the extra bit at the end, but after reading _dndchk_'s review I thought I had better make it slightly less depressing._

_I was tempted to include this in my other fanfic touching on trans issues, "_He Him Me_", but thought I'd leave that as is, because this character actually has a name, although he's just an OC._


End file.
